You had him on his knees in an abandoned church obediently, confident that you had everything under control, especially him. Being enemies to each other made tensions high, but so was the tent in his pants he was hiding.

“If you’re not going to kill me, go ahead and enlighten me with what you will do,” he starts out. “You want information? I can make that work. You want money? That’s fine.”

He then looks up at you, “You want me? Take me.”